


red white blues in the sky

by babelincoln



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Americanisms, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, iuhyhgfrghj, why am i writing so much rn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babelincoln/pseuds/babelincoln
Summary: minho looks up as jinwoo sits down next to him on the bed, and he hates the ugly, possessive side of his brain that’s really into jinwoo wearing his clothes. it’s not his fault- the older boy is so perfect, a face that looks like it’s been carved from resin, sanded down and painted with love. it’s a wonder someone can look like kim jinwoo without their joints being strung together and ball-jointed.





	red white blues in the sky

minho first lays eyes on him at the school festival. he’s in the back of the audience, watching him stand on stage, singing the national anthem. stupid. minho should turn to his friends and mock him; but he doesn’t. he doesn’t say a word.

minho has never seen this boy before; at least not that he can recall. which is surprising, because right now, it’s safe to say he’s got him hypnotised. he’s dressed casual- dark brown hair shaken just slightly out of place and a t-shirt that drowns him; he looks delicate. a little china doll. yet he sings with a confidence that minho isn’t convinced he’s ever bared witness to before. the most generic song choice possible, yet this kid sings it as if it was written for him, a nation as a boy. the house lights have been dimmed for him, and he’s angelic in the fluorescence of the stage lighting he’s left in. dumbly, minho wonders how he’d look in good lighting if he makes this work so well for him. and then minho thinks that he’s probably fucked, if the thump of the pit of his stomach or the hairs standing tall upon the back of his neck are anything to go by. 

and then the final note plays, and a doll’s face is marred by an embarrassed grin as minho’s entertainment bows deep and shyly thanks the audience before they even applaud. 

consider minho’s interest caught. 

when he’s asked, jiwon tells him that the boy’s name is kim jinwoo- he says it with a smirk that minho chooses to ignore. kim jinwoo. minho watches a gaggle of girls shuffle onto the stage to prepare for their dance number, but he doesn’t take it in. the song they’re dancing to may well be in portuguese; as all that’s playing in minho’s mind is the national anthem. 

he manages to shake the feeling when kim jinwoo doesn’t cross his path for the rest of the night. distracted by jiwon’s dumb jokes and the questionable performances of his classmates, minho has little difficulty pushing him from his mind. it’s not until later, when he’s alone in his bedroom, trying to focus on his homework, that the memory of jinwoo comes back to haunt him; almost as fascinating in his mind’s eyes as it was in person. it begins as total recall; nothing more than innocent remembrance. unfortunately, song minho is a teenage boy. and so, the image of those pretty lips up against the microphone soon becomes polluted with imagined pictures of something a lot more interesting than the algebra homework on minho’s desk.

with a sigh of defeat, minho slips his hand under his waistband, knowing full well that once he's done he'll be a goner. 

he's right.

guilt settles in when he’s cleaning himself up, and as he realises just what he’s allowed to happen, he rationalises with himself that he may never have to look kim jinwoo in the eyes. if they’ve made it this far without crossing paths, it’s unlikely they ever will again. nothing but a fantasy about a pretty stranger. teenagers are supposed to misplace their lust like this; it’s what they do. 

totally harmless.

luck likes to play games, though. and so, obviously, the next morning minho notices kim jinwoo in the school hallways. it suddenly becomes clear why he’d never noticed him earlier. he has the type of face that still looks pretty wrapped up in his school uniform, but minho isn’t sure he’s ever seen someone carry themselves so demurely. kim jinwoo shrinks in on himself each time someone passes. he laughs with his hand covering his smile as kim jinhwan - a kid in minho’s math class (despite being a year his senior) who always picked fights with the teachers, tells him an animated sort of story- hands flying madly as they paint invisible pictures. minho is supposed to be waiting for jiwon to drop by with a copy of the algebra homework to copy, but he’s too busy trying to figure out why he’s getting mad at jinhwan to notice his best friend approach. 

“who’re you staring at?” jiwon asks in a sing-songy type of voice that is entirely too loud, and as jinhwan looks over curiously, jinwoo follows his friend’s gaze. minho spins around with a frown, punching jiwon’s arm.

“shut the fuck up.” minho hisses before he can stop himself; realising all too late that a simple ‘nothing, just spacing out’ would have been much more effective and far less incriminating. jiwon’s barely done indignantly grasping his ‘wounded’ arm, however, when his face lights up in a delighted smirk as he notices the two upperclassmen in their line of sight, raising a hand in greeting. jinwoo waves back in a small way. jinhwan furrows his eyebrows with a scoff, tugging jinwoo’s arm and leading him down the hallway, lost amongst a sea of students. 

with an amused grin, jiwon meets minho’s eye, shrugging. “my bad.”

“i wasn’t staring. i just spaced out.” minho says, but it’s too little too late. 

“kim jinwoo, huh?” jiwon asks with a smirk, nodding his head forward as he begins to walk to class, beckoning minho to keep his pace. minho does, begrudgingly. “what, you gonna get him to sing ‘happy birthday, mister president,’ or something?”

“i was just trying to figure out where i saw him before.” minho responds, defensively and a little too quickly. “he sang at the festival, right?”

“yeah.” jiwon nods, facially denying minho the grace of even pretending to believe him. “the one you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.”

“well… he did a good job.”

“you don’t want to mess with that, though.” jiwon says, dropping his backpack to one shoulder and digging around in it, distracted. “that’s a whole lot of baggage.”

minho finds himself offended, for some reason. “what’s that mean?” he snaps, a little too aggressively. jiwon doesn’t seem to mind- then again, it’s hard to pierce through jiwon’s good nature at the best of times. 

“don’t you remember? a few years back, that woman in our neighbourhood died.”

when jiwon says died, he means took her own life- but it’s an uncomfortable thing to word, and probably something outwith jiwon’s aware level of tact. of course minho remembers. the two of the had been playing soccer in the park across them street. they’d seen the ambulance pull up outside, and her covered body being wheeled out of the house and rushed behind the heavy vehicle doors. minho had nightmares for a few weeks, after that. jiwon had never mentioned it since, but they stopped playing soccer after that, sticking to simulating the sport on playstations.

“what about her?” minho asks, although it’s not hard to tell where this was going.

“minho, that was kim jinwoo’s mom.” jiwon says it in a sadly casual sort of way, and then thrusts a sheet of paper under minho’s nose. “anyway, here. make sure you get some of the answers wrong.”

weeks pass, and minho spots jinwoo more and more. there’s another big school event, and minho is palpably disappointed when jinwoo does not sing this time. but even without his fluorescent spotlight, he catches minho’s eye at least once a day. minho would pass him in the corridor, and once or twice, he’d look out of his window in the morning and spot jinwoo leaving his house on the opposite side of the little park, wondering how he’d lived on the same street as someone for his whole life and taken so long to notice them. through osmosis, minho learns things. jinwoo walks to school, rather than catching a ride or taking the bus. he was reading ‘the great gatsby,’ he spent his lunch breaks in the library and he was in his senior year; a grade above minho- but was supposed to have graduated already. he’d been kept back a year, after missing a large amount of school time after his mother killed herself four years ago. jinwoo seemed to spend most of his time with kim jinhwan (who had taken to glaring at minho every time they met eyes; although minho would probably have had the same response to someone looking at jiwon as often as minho looks at jinwoo.) but he was also friends with lee chaerin, a kind but intimidating-in-the-pretty-girl-way upperclassman who captained the girls’ soccer team. jinhwan and chaerin barely clock his shoulders, and briefly, minho suspects that jinwoo, who was of average height, was purposefully befriending kids who made him look taller. 

but just as looking out for jinwoo between classes becomes a favoured hobby, jinwoo goes off the radar again. minho isn’t quick to admit it, but he even begins actively retracing jinwoo’s usual daily routine, making up bullshit excuses to drag jiwon to the library (“but i have like twelve overdue books,” he had whined) and suddenly taking in interest in his friend jennie’s soccer matches in hopes that he’d run into jinwoo studying over lunch or cheering on chaerin, but he was gone. 

eventually, as another week passes of jinwoo’s absence, minho falls back into regularity- playing video games with jiwon until the sun rises and spending his free time at school with people he’d actually held conversations with, and quite easily is jinwoo forgotten. 

and then he’s remembered. minho is cleaning up after dinner on a particularly miserable rainy day, thunder rumbling quietly above his rooftop, as he looks through the window above his sink and notices kim jinwoo in the park. alone in the pouring rain, jinwoo rocks on a makeshift swing that’s been tied to a tree by the road for as long as minho can remember. minho drops the dishes to the bottom of the sink and kicks his feet into his shoes.

with each step, water soaks up through the canvas of his shoes. this is the heaviest it’s rained in a long time, and the light fabric of his hoodie is really no match. he keeps at it though, quick steps, power-walking towards a drenched jinwoo who stares up at him blankly, almost tiredly.

“what the fuck?” minho asks. “you’re soaked.”

jinwoo’s head tilts to one side, babydoll eyes scanning him for a second. he looks a little taken aback, like a startled animal, but then his eyebrows furrow into an incredulous expression. “and now you are, too.” 

“what are you doing out here?” minho pushes onwards. jinwoo is dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, and now that he’s up close, minho can see that he’s trembling. “you’re gonna catch fucking pneumonia. or something.”

“i’m fine.” jinwoo states, pushing himself backwards and swinging back and forth once more, in little movements, as if he thinks that his quaking won’t be as visible in motion. 

“that’s not what i asked.”

“i’m hiding from my dad.” jinwoo says as if it’s the most ordinary thing in the world; as casual as he may speak if playing a game of hide and seek. minho doesn’t think this is hide and seek.

“you’re-“

“i don’t want to talk about it.” jinwoo says. 

“okay.” minho raises his hands as if in defence, pursing his lips for a second. a flash of lighting reminds him of the severity of the storm; and then he realises just how stupid jinwoo’s hiding place is. he’s just about to will jinwoo to move, when the disturbingly familiar sound of his mother’s shrill yelling hits his ears from across the road.

“are you boys fucking stupid!? it’s a thunderstorm and you’re sitting under a  _ tree!? _ ”

needless to say, minho is called back inside immediately, and jinwoo is forced to choose between coming with him or going home.

he chooses to come with him. 

jinwoo hesitates before stepping into minho’s room. minho looks at him, confused. 

“you can come in, it’s fine.” he says. jinwoo shoots him a look that’s hard to read and steps through the doorway. 

minho leaves jinwoo standing for a second, opening his closet and rifling through his clothes, tossing jinwoo a pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt. 

“you should change into dry clothes.” he says, pointing through the doorway and down the hall. “bathroom’s right down there. there should be clean towels so you can dry yourself off.”

“i…” jinwoo looks hesitant, worrying his bottom lip. “i don’t want to be a bother.”

minho laughs a little, turning back to the closet to find something dry for himself to wear. “it’s gonna be more of a hassle if you get my room all wet.” hs says simply, and jinwoo nods before heading out to change. 

when he comes back, five minutes later, hair damp but not as soaked as it was before and looking a little warmer as he drowns in minho’s clothes, minho has already pulled on an lg twins sweatshirt and his old faithful pair of sweats. 

minho looks up as jinwoo sits down next to him on the bed, and he hates the ugly, possessive side of his brain that’s really into jinwoo wearing his clothes. it’s not his fault- the older boy is so perfect, a face that looks like it’s been carved from resin, sanded down and painted with love. it’s a wonder someone can look like kim jinwoo without their joints being strung together and ball-jointed. jinwoo meets minho’s eye, and the gaze lingers for a second, before jinwoo becomes the unexpected instigator in breaking the silence. in a small voice, only a little accusing, he says;

“you’ve been seriously creeping me out.”

minho sputters. “wh-” 

“you always stare at me, and it feels like you’re following me around. it’s making me a little uncomfortable.”

minho is completely blindsided- although he supposed he shouldn’t be. it’s not exactly what he wants to hear, but when it’s laid out for him, he supposes he can’t deny that his infatuation with jinwoo has caused him to cross a line somewhat. still, though- he feels defensive. “what? no, i… that’s not it-“

“what is it then?” jinwoo asks, same blank expression as ever, pulling the fabric of the shirt he had borrowed taught around his thin waist, as if to warm himself up. “jinhwan has noticed it too…”

“i just. i like you?” minho says it as if it’s a question. jinwoo shows expression then, in form of a scoff, looking away from minho and staring instead at the wall.

“you know nothing about me.” 

“do i have to?” minho asks, scratching his eyebrow, feeling uncomfortable and as if he has completely ruined any chance of making a good impression. “i want to know you. that’s a good place to start, right?”

jinwoo says nothing. 

he stays for another few hours before the rain lets up, and then he bows thank you to minho’s mother, who has put his shoes through the dryer, and runs home. minho had envisioned his first real, substantial encounter with jinwoo to go many ways; some of them good, some of them bad and some of them r-rated- but none as awful as that. 

“so.” says jennie, days later, as minho joins her in the school cafeteria during lunch break. she rocks her chair up onto it’s hind legs, smirking her little feline grin that makes her look like she’s taunting pray. “jiwon tells me you have a crush.”

“jiwon says a lot of dumb shit.” minho snaps, trying his best to focus on his sandwich- jinwoo was still an open wound. 

“oh, minho.” she says in a singsong voice, leaning over the table, forcing eye contact upon him. “we’ve known each other since we were in diapers, you really think you can lie to me?”

“i’m not lying. he saw me looking at someone and jumped to conclusions.” 

“who is he?” 

minho stares at her, shoulders deflating as he decides that it is, indeed, futile to resist. she’d only persist, and minho is weak of will. “kim jinwoo.”

“who?”

“chaerin’s friend.” he’s met with a blank stare. he sighs. “sung the national anth-“

“oh!” jennie lights up with comprehension.

“yeah.” 

“an older boy, huh?” she smirks, popping a fry into her mouth. “i never had you down as the sugar baby type.”

“hey- it’s a two year gap. that’s not that bad-”

“so you  _ are  _ interested!” jennie interrupts, as she is known to do, and minho stammers a little, before (allegedly) pouting.

“fuck off.”

actively, minho avoids jinwoo. he purposefully reroutes his journeys, taking any steps necessary to keep clear of jinwoo’s daily routine, so as to stop creeping him out. the more he dwells on it, the more he realises how shitty he had been- you can’t follow people around; he knows that. but when he had vented to jiwon, jiwon had just called him a dumbass and told him he should have just asked him on a date. minho is baffled by how simple that sounds. 

he lasts a week without running into jinwoo again, until he nearly reaches the deadline of a very important essay he hasn’t even started on and can no longer avoid the library. he figures that if he goes after classes are done for the day, rather than during lunch, he might avoid any awkward encounters. 

no such luck, though. as soon as he arrives, he clocks that the place is empty, save for the librarian and one more student. hearing the door open, jinwoo looks up from his book and straight into minho’s eyes. minho gives him an awkward little smile and a stilted head tilt and makes his way down to the history aisle, sliding his bag from his shoulders and sitting down on the floor- as far from jinwoo as he can manage to be. 

as minho begins gathering sources, it becoming es easy to forget about jinwoo’s presence- he may be a lazy student, but he’s a good one, and it’s not hard to fall into the swing of doing his work. he reckons he spends about three quarters of an hour gathering solid information before a shadow dims the fluorescence lighting the room, and minho looks up to see jinwoo standing over him. 

“i didn’t follow you here.” he blurts out, wincing at both his volume and his stupidity, but jinwoo just laughs, sitting down on the floor.

“i can tell. you’re working hard.” he says with a gentle smile, offering a thumbs up. he scoots over next to him, rifling in his schoolbag and pulling out the shirt and sweatpants minho had loaned him, appearing freshly washed and folded neatly. “here, i wanted to give these back, but i haven’t seen you around lately.” 

“oh.” minho blinks. he bows as he accepts them. he’s a little shocked that jinwoo is even talking to him, never mind in such a friendly and casual manner- but he’s certainly not about to complain. “yeah. i, uh. figured i should give you some space.” 

jinwoo’s lips draw into a grim line, and he nods, inhaling through his nose. “i’m sorry about that night. i didn’t mean to be so rude, i just… i had a fight with my dad, and i was being overdramatic.” 

“it’s okay.” minho says. a beat. “are you okay, though? you and your dad, he doesn’t like...”

“hit me?” jinwoo asks bluntly. when minho nods, jinwoo shakes his head. “no, he doesn’t hit me. he’s a nice guy, most of the time. it’s just… my mom passed away years back. sometimes he drinks. he’s not violent, just unkind.” 

minho pauses, nodding his head. he wants to do something- offer any kind of support to jinwoo, but he doesn’t want to pretend to relate, nor does he want to risk hugging him and creeping him out again. instead, he just says; “you’re always welcome. at my place. if he starts drinking again, you can come over.” 

“song minho.” jinwoo says with a wicked grin, leaning his head back against the bookshelf. “anyone would think you had an agenda.”

“i mean it.” minho presses. jinwoo’s smile softens.

“i know. thank you.” 

a few minutes pass, minho looks back down at his books, but his concentration is shot, with kim jinwoo occupying the space next to him with his face tucked back into gatsby and mind far far away from their little school library. minho must be staring again, because jinwoo looks back up with a knowing expression, and minho looks away, blushing. 

“we’ve talked about this.” jinwoo says, but he says it in a way that minho knows is a joke. 

minho holds his hands up in defence, laughing a little. “i’m sorry. you’re pretty.”

jinwoo rolls his eyes. “right.” he says, not sounding convinced. “i forgot. you like me.”

“i do like you.” minho says.

“like i said, you don’t know me.” 

“yeah, and like i said,” minho presses onwards. “i want to.” 

“cause you think i’m pretty?”

“that’s one reason.” minho answers honestly, because it doesn’t serve anyone to lie. but he feels drawn to jinwoo in a way that’s beyond physical. “but also because something about you is like… magnetic to me. I dunno, jinwoo, I’m not good with feelings and stuff. I just know that every time i get you off my mind, you turn up again. and I’m always so happy that you do. that means something, right?”

jinwoo says nothing, looking away. minho panics, because this is exactly what happened that night in his bedroom, and this conversation started off so well, he doesn’t want to ruin it again. jiwon’s advice drops into his head and rattles around, and before minho can process his words, he says; 

“will you go on a date with me?” 

jinwoo’s head snaps around, lips falling open in a little o, and he stammers a little, staring at minho as if he’s said something crazy. “what?”

“will you go on a date with me?” minho somehow finds the courage within him to ask a second time, moving slightly closer to jinwoo, staring at him earnestly. “look. this started off weird, i’ll admit to that, but i have a crush on you. maybe it’s superficial, i don’t know. i’d like to find out. so why don’t we just… do it properly? go on some dates and see if we hit it off?”

jinwoo swallows, averting his gaze. minho’s heart begins to race, thinking that maybe jiwon’s advice had been horseshit and jinwoo would clam up and ignore him, but soon enough jinwoo leans in and presses a soft kiss against minho’s lips. 

minho is too shocked to enjoy it, so when jinwoo pulls away, minho can’t help himself, wrapping a hand around the back of jinwoo’s neck and crashing their lips back together, kissing him deeply and more intensely. he’s been thinking about this ever since he first saw jinwoo standing on stage; and so he kisses jinwoo the way you’re supposed to kiss someone for the first time. passion and fireworks and need, and jinwoo wraps his small hands in the fabric of minho’s shirt and kisses back, following minho’s lead perfectly. they kiss until they’re breathless, and jinwoo pulls back, staring minho in the eyes with a mischievous expression. pressing a kiss to minho’s jaw, he shifts the book off of minho’s lap, unbuckling his belt. minho starts, whispering in a quiet hiss; “the librarian is still here.”

“you wanna stop?” jinwoo whispers back, looking at him seriously. minho weighs up his options, but hormones ultimately win out- aided very much by the telltale sign of his own arousal that his book had been hiding during their kiss.

“no.” he says with a breathy laugh, as if he can’t believe this is happening.

“so try to stay quiet.” jinwoo says, freeing minho’s cock from the confines of his jeans and stroking it slowly before leaning down.

he starts off with a sweet little kiss to the head, baby doll eyes looking up to minho with irises that may as well have been heart shaped. the affection in the action is not lost on minho, but he’s a little too distracted to really bother trying to figure out what it means. and then even more so, as jinwoo wraps his lips around the head of minho’s cock, his cheeks hollowing just slightly as he suckles on the tip, tongue stroking delicately along the slit. minho has to bite on his knuckles to stay quiet. 

jinwoo doesn’t make it easy for him, sliding down so he’s lying on his front, the shift in position allowing him to take the full length of minho’s cock in his mouth. minho’s eye screw shut, the feeling of jinwoo’s throat around him drives him insane, not the mention the fear of getting caught- he doesn’t know if it’s anything to be proud of, but that fear just makes this five times hotter. it’s overwhelming in the best type of way, all of minho’s nerves feel completely raw ended, and the way jinwoo begins to bob his head is a drop of heaven. 

jinwoo reaches out, grabbing minho’s wrist and pulling his hand to rest upon the back of his head, halting his motions. minho doesn’t really need much time to work out what’s being silently asked of him, and taking a grip of jinwoo’s short hair, minho begins to rock his hips upwards, fucking his cock down the older boy’s throat. jinwoo splutters a little, not so noisily as to be audible to anybody but them, and it gives minho the confidence to pick up the pace, rocking into him harder, chasing his orgasm. jinwoo’s hand dips below his chin, softly running his fingers over minho’s balls- and very soon, biting hard enough on his knuckles to stay silent that he draws blood, minho reaches his climax. he takes his hand away as he shoots out down jinwoo’s throat. jinwoo hollows his cheeks on the way off, sucking each and every last drop of minho’s orgasm and swallowing it like food from the gods.

minho doesn’t know what to say, head falling back against the bookshelf, and jinwoo takes it upon himself to put him away, tucking minho back into his underwear and fastening his jeans, pressing a little kiss to his cheek as he does his best to flatten his hair.

“i think i lo-” minho starts, but jinwoo presses a finger over his lips, his other hand wiping the saliva from his chin without even an ember of shame- and minho is both baffled and aroused that someone so timid and introverted would be so willing to do something like this as is if it was no big deal. not that he’s complaining. in the slightest. 

“i’m probably just really good at giving head.” jinwoo says with a laugh. “let your brain unscramble and if you still think it, tell me then.”

minho regards him with a grin, letting out a laugh of his own as he pushes his hair from his forehead. “i’ll pick you up tomorrow night. eight o’clock.”

jinwoo smiles. “it’s a date.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna be a cowboy baby


End file.
